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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25119340">Hisoka's Painting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohofcourse/pseuds/ohofcourse'>ohofcourse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Apologies [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arguing, Domestic, Illumi has to apologize, M/M, he is super awkward, kind of?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:49:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25119340</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohofcourse/pseuds/ohofcourse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Illumi fucks up. He apologies in numerously inventive ways.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Apologies [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818052</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>267</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hisoka's Painting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is part of the Apologies series, but it can totally be read on its own. This one is going to be multi-chapter, and I already have most of the next chapter written, so the update will be soon! Please enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hisoka didn’t really know what he had been expecting when he returned from a three-day jaunt with the Phantom Troupe. It certainly wasn’t this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello Illumi, you’re looking very… proximal.” Proximal was an understatement. Illumi’s face was about three inches away from Hisoka’s. Two inches if they were measuring from the noses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illumi stood directly in front of Hisoka. He had his hands clasped together in front of him. His perfect hair was slightly imperfect today. A single strand popped endearingly from his middle part. Hisoka wanted to curl it around his finger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illumi was ramrod straight, eyes wide. There was no palpable disinterest, or cool irritation, or even smug cruelty, which had all been things Hisoka had come to expect from Illumi. Instead, his lover stood in front of him, eyes wide, chest rising and falling a little too quick for it to be normal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hisoka used to be afraid of Illumi. It was a very sensible wariness. People who weren’t at least a little bit afraid of Illumi were either dead, or they were thinking of the wrong Illumi. He had eyes the size of saucers and they were black, like an alien’s; when they first became lovers and Hisoka discovered Illumi’s penchant for sleeping with his eyes open, he had not been able to sleep peacefully. Those eyes sent chills down his spine. When they had sex, Hisoka used to be tempted not to look directly at him, for fear that Illumi would take a pin from some miraculous place and then thrust it between Hisoka’s brows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hisoka wasn’t afraid of Illumi anymore, or at least, he thought he wasn’t. Illumi was giving him a run for his money, now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My dear, is everything alright?” Hisoka asked smoothly. Illumi, he realized with mounting surprise, looked frightened. It was an awkward look on him, like an ill-fitting blazer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hisoka–” Before he could finish, Hisoka glided past his stiff form so he could find somewhere to set his things down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t look hurt. The house doesn’t seem to be burning down… did you cheat on me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m only kidding, Illumi, I wouldn’t insult you like that.” Hisoka dropped his bags on the carpet and sighed, taking in the city lights. This apartment had been an excellent purchase. Illumi had complained of the width of the hallways and the overall smallness of it–it was not small; it was actually an unnecessarily massive apartment, but compared to the Zoldyck estate, it was indeed a </span>
  <em>
    <span>matchbox</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as Illumi had so politely put it to the real estate agent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except, there was something wrong with their lovely apartment. One of the walls was emptier than it should have been. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You see–” Illumi began but was interrupted by a single manicured finger to his lips. Propped up against the kitchen island was a massive painting. At six feet tall, it usually took up nearly the entire back wall of the living room. It had cost Hisoka a fortune. It was a self-portrait. In it, he was wearing his favorite outfit and he was smiling his favorite smile and his waist was looking practically nonexistent. It was a perfect painting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except, now it wasn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Illumi was turning a deep shade of red. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ruined my painting,” Hisoka said dumbly. Illumi mouthed something and shook his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It wasn’t on purpose,” he finally got out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s in tatters, Illumi, and it’s stained. My face looks like it was scratched out by an animal.” Hisoka’s voice was terrifyingly even. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am sorry,” Illumi said stiffly. “It was an accident. I’ll pay for a new one.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The artist died, a year ago,” Hisoka whispered. He was whispering because the only alternative he could access right now was shouting and Illumi did not respond well to shouting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, well, I can find a better artist. I’m sorry, Hisoka, it really was an accident.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Illumi, please tell me what happened.” It was rare to hear Illumi apologize. If it was under any other circumstances, Hisoka would have his pants down around his ankles and he would be pleasuring himself, right there, in the kitchen. He liked it when Illumi was sorry, but he liked that painting, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Last night, I got back from my mission earlier than expected, so I had a drink.” Illumi’s tone was tremulous. “After that drink, I had more–many more. I kept </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the painting and I think you were on my mind, because of your absence, and though I don’t remember the details, I think my brain, addled with alcohol as it was, saw the image of you and thought it to be the real you, and you know, we haven’t had sex in nearly a week, which is partially my fault, I know, and–” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>mounted </span>
  </em>
  <span>my portrait,” Hisoka breathed. Illumi had the gall to look indignant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I was drunk.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And the scratches?” Hisoka asked slowly, still processing. Illumi held up a hand and Hisoka watched as it elongated into claws. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The assassin nails,” Hisoka said with a sigh. They had made a few rare appearances during sex, but only when Illumi was at a certain height of pleasure. It soured–and alarmed–Hisoka that Illumi had gotten there with a mere painting of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Illumi retracted his claws and tucked his hair behind his ear. His big, black eyes peered at Hisoka expectantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, what, Illumi? What could you possibly want from me right now?” Hisoka’s voice was uncharacteristically strained. There was no playful lilt, no perverted croon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you forgive me, yes or no?” Illumi asked flatly. This was the problem, Hisoka decided, with Illumi. For an assassin, Illumi’s view of the world was disturbingly black and white. He did not understand nuance, nor did he participate in it. Even after years of living together, Illumi still could not comprehend that Hisoka did not operate on a binary system. He could barely comprehend that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t, either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will, Illumi, I will. I’m just frustrated. Please give me time.” Illumi did not seem pleased with that. He blinked owlishly and glanced once at the ruined painting. The gouge marks he had left split Hisoka’s smiling face into four parts. A small flap of canvas featuring half of a pink star hung pathetically. The frame itself, save for a few scuff marks and dents, was largely undamaged. Small miracles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Illumi said, pushing himself off the kitchen counter. When he walked down the hall into their spare bedroom and not the one they shared, Hisoka said nothing. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, comments and kudos are lovely!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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